


a thousand miles from nowhere

by SadieFlood



Category: Death Race (2008)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 10:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12456060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieFlood/pseuds/SadieFlood
Summary: Santa Rosalia was never supposed to be the end of the road.





	a thousand miles from nowhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moonshower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshower/gifts).



Santa Rosalia was never supposed to be the end of the road.

The trailer behind the garage wasn't meant to be home.

It was just a place to stop on the way to somewhere else, destination to be determined.

So it's more than a little frustrating that Piper's on the verge of the terrible threes and here he is, still fucking around with dead batteries and flat tires, still sharing a double-wide with Joe.

As far as anyone in Santa Rosalia knows, Joe's a nice guy who's a little rough around the edges, but a damn good mechanic. He's taken to Mexico like a duck to water, chatting up the customers in Spanglish, earning their loyalty. If it's an act, it's a good one.

Jensen prefers to stick to his work; even if he was a people person, his face is recognizable in certain circles, and he has a family to consider. He'd been hoping to get on the road in the spring, but all of his talk never quite materalized to action. He knows it's his own fault that he's stuck in the middle of another miserable summer in Mexico, with the now-familiar oppressive heat squeezing the life out of him. The cheap fans stationed around the trailer and the shop are sorely overmatched.

They've settled into a weirdly domestic routine. Two men and a baby. Off to work in the morning, feed the baby, bathe her, put her to bed, fall asleep, do it all over again the next day.

Somehow it never bothered him until recently.

Maybe it's the heat. 

* 

“I'm going out,” he announces.

Joe doesn't look up. “Good, I got somebody coming over.”

He blinks. “Come again?”

“That's the plan.”

“You're having someone over, here, with my daughter?”

“That kid sleeps like a rock,” Joe says. “If she doesn't, I'll handle it. Go out. Get laid. Get wasted. You need _something_.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means, 'Go out. Get laid. Get wasted.'” Jensen hears the effort it's taking him to stay calm. “I got it covered tonight.”

Joe's not wrong, and it takes him a minute to remember why he was pissed in the first place. “You can't bring some random... person here and get your rocks off, not with her in the other room.”

“Then take her with you if it's such a big fucking deal,” Joe says in a tone that can only be described as deliberately infuriating.

“I can't,” he says. “You can't keep it in your pants for one more night?”

“I _really_ can't."

The thing is, Piper really does sleep like a rock.

*

The night gets away from him.

A simple street race. Adrenaline. Victory. Then another. And another. Each opponent vanquished. It's hardly even a challenge. 

It's stupid, and it's dangerous, and if Joe were doing it, Jensen would beat him within an inch of his life, if he was feeling merciful that day.

But if anyone recognizes him, they don't let on. A couple of years baking under the sun and his skin is darker than it's ever been, and it's long past time for a shave. He puts on an exaggerated American accent and no one's the wiser.

If anyone recognizes him, the game is over. He's fucked. 

If anyone follows him, it's worse. 

He takes the ridiculously long way home, just in case.

When he gets back to the garage, the sun's been up for about an hour. He considers walking in and collapsing on his bed, no apologies, no explanations. But he'd wake the baby, and then Joe, and then God knows who else.

So he slips into the front seat of a car he's been working on, reclines the seat, and almost instantly falls asleep.

*

“Pa?” Piper is peering at him curiously.

“It's me,” he says, yawning. “I'm here.”

She settles in the passenger seat, babbling happily to him, to herself, to her stuffed bear, to the car, to the sun. 

He can hear Joe working on something, banging and clanking and cursing like always. 

Jensen stays there for a moment, listening to them both with his eyes closed; it would almost be a nice moment if it wasn't so fucking hot.

He picks Piper up and heads toward the trailer. 

“Wild night,” Joe observes without looking up from his project. “Good. Maybe now you can calm the fuck down.”

“Maybe,” he says. “I take it your evening went well.”

“You could say that.”

“Good,” Jensen says.

“For both of us.” 

“Yep.”

Jensen tries not to slam the trailer door behind him, but Piper still covers her ears and scrunches up her face. “Sorry, baby,” he says. “I'll try to be better.”

She grins at him. No harm done.

He hopes that last part's true.

*

A couple of days later, Joe says, “You have somewhere to be tonight?”

“No,” he says, though he could, if he wanted. 

“I got somebody coming over. Not like--I mean, like, making dinner.” It sounds like he's daring Jensen to mock him, even a little."

“Oh,” he says.

Joe doesn't say anything else.

“Same one as the other day, then?” Jensen keeps his tone light.

No answer.

“He doesn't have his own kitchen?”

“He takes care of his mom,” Joe finally says. “She's old, she don't get out much. Maybe I ought to hook you two up.”

“I was planning on a quiet night in,” Jensen says.

“Then I hope you got some good headphones or earplugs or something.” 

Jensen pretends to work. “You know, maybe I will go out after all.” He pauses. “Can you write down his mother's number for me?”

* 

The guy's early. 

Of all the fucking times.

Piper's already having a bad night; she's drooling all over the place and refusing to eat anything they give her, even her favorite foods, and she's cranky as hell. “Maybe now is not the time,” Jensen tries to say, but Joe is already at the door. 

“Sorry,” he tells the guy, “the baby's in a mood.”

The guy clucks his tongue sympathetically. “Do you have a banana?” 

“Shit, I don't know. Maybe." Joe goes to look.

“Put it in the freezer, we'll give it to her in a while. I bet it will make her feel better.”

Jensen sizes him up. Tall, skinny, four eyes, collared shirt, looks like an accountant. Or someone's husband. Machine Gun Joe would have eaten this guy for lunch and spat out the bones. "You have a kid?”

He smiles. “Plenty of nieces and nephews to go around.”

“Found one,” Joe says triumphantly, holding the banana up like it's a goddamn trophy. He sticks it in the freezer. 

“I'm Enrique.” He holds out his hand. “And you're Joaquin's roommate.”

“That's my name,” he says. “Don't wear it out.” 

“Joaquin's roommate was actually just leaving,” Joe says, nodding toward the door. “Got some hot party to go to.”

“Nice to meet you.” Enrique heads toward the kitchen and begins moving pots and pans around.

“Joaquin, can I talk to you outside?” He keeps his tone even. Piper whines as he walks away. 

When they get outside, Joe crosses his arms. “You want to stay for the baby, makes sure she gets to bed, fine. But I don't think you want to stick around after that.”

“I don't think it's such a good idea to have him here when she's still awake,” he says. 

He recognizes the look on Joe's face, sees a familiar anger boiling under his skin.

"It's not that," he says calmly. "I just don't want her to get attached to someone who's not going to be around very long."

"She's _already_ attached."

Jensen blinks. "It's been going on for that long?"

"I get her up, I feed her, I talk to her, she talks to me--"

"I was talking about _him_." Jensen pauses. "You thinking about moving on, then?"

Joe shrugs.  "It's fucking hot here."

He rejects the first five responses that spring to his mind.

Whatever. He has somewhere else to be.

Apparently he's not the only one.

"Well, you just let me know what you decide," he says. "Guess I'll start looking for a babysitter."

Joe heads back into the trailer.  The door slams behind him. 

*

 

He doesn't stay gone for as long as he could.

He wins a couple of races, but it's too easy, over too fast. All risk, no reward. 

"Get laid.  Get wasted," Joe had said, but neither possibility holds much allure at the moment.

The prospect of an early morning encounter with Enrique--who'll probably make some _amazing_ breakfast and charm his way into Piper's good graces--is even less appealing, but he slips into the trailer unnoticed.

Piper is sleeping soundly; the frozen banana must have worked. Great.

Joe's passed out on the couch. Alone.

He feels oddly relieved. 

He decides not to think about the reason. 

*

Over the next few days, they work on separate projects on opposite sides of the garage without speaking any more than necessary.

Piper is content to fill the silence, babbling obliviously, and it's easy for both of them to direct their attention exclusively to her.

It's the worst possible time to get the call, but he doesn't have a choice when Case says, “I need a place to lie low for a while. You still have that sleeping bag?”

“Always,” he says. 

So the first thing he says directly to Joe in almost a week is, “Got a call from Case.”

“How long this time?” Joe asks. He's elbow-deep in an engine.

“Didn't say. Sounds like she ran into some trouble.”

“Great.” Jensen honestly can't tell if he's pissed.

“Guess we'll have to clean up a bit,” he says, testing the waters.

“Yup.”

He has to ask. “Still thinking about leaving?”

“Yup.” 

All right, then.

*

Case is actually kind of a welcome distraction. She regales them with stories about her adventures that have to be slightly exaggerated, and Jensen is happy to let her talk.

It's nice to have another pair of hands at the garage, and Piper is delighted to expand her audience.

After a few weeks, they've settled into a new routine.

Joe hasn't said anything more about leaving, but he's spending less and less time at the trailer.

Well, he's a grown man. He can do what he wants.

“I think I'm going out tonight,” Case says. “No offense, but a girl has needs. I'm going stir crazy.”

He looks up from the spaghetti-O's he's heating up for Piper. “What, we're not enough for you?”

Case rolls her eyes. “Don't tease.”

“You really never think about settling down?”

“Here?” She sounds so incredulous, he has to laugh. “Three's _definitely_ a crowd.”

"Come on, she loves you," he says. 

"I wasn't talking about her." She looks at him like he's an idiot. 

Probably because he's an idiot. But he says, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do I really need to buy you a copy of _Piper Has Two Daddies_?"

"Joe's a huge help, but you know it's not like that," he says.

“Pretty sure you're the only one who doesn't know it _is_ like that." She shakes her head. "All right, I'm out."

"Besides," he says, as if she hasn't spoken, "we haven't talked in weeks."

“Then stop being a dick,” she says. “And apologize.”

“Excuse me?” He glances at Piper. “Also, watch your language.”

Case snorts.

“And, I'm not the one who's being a d-i-c-k,” he says, though now that he thinks about it, he's not sure that's entirely true. “And, what are you implying? Just because _he's_ \--”

“Okay.” She holds her hands up in surrender. “I'm still going out tonight, and I'm still not settling down here. I've actually been getting things set up and I'll be out of your hair in a day or two.”

“Okay,” he says.

*

The thing is, they'd talked about it once, in the early days. 

A few beers in, Joe had said, "Really? Never? Not even some footballer or cricket player or whatever the fuck passes for sports where you come from?"

And he'd said, "Nope."

He hadn't mentioned the rugby player from grade eleven. And three-quarters of grade twelve.

After all, he hadn't told anyone; why start with an escaped convict? 

Joe never brought the subject up again.

*

It takes a while after Case leaves for him to finally get around to apologizing. 

“She said something before she left,” he says, turning the key.

Joe grunts in response, heaving out the battery.

He lingers in the driver's seat instead of going to help. “I asked her if she wanted to stay.”

“You didn't think about asking me about that?”

“You've got one foot out the door,” he points out. “Anyway, it doesn't matter. What she said was, she didn't want to stay because three would be a crowd. Implying that--”

“Two's company,” Joe says. "Except there's three of us." 

“Yeah, she wasn't counting Piper. She also pointed out that I've been kind of a dick.” He gets out of the car. “Sorry about that.”

Joe sets down the battery. “That mean you're gonna knock it off, or you just feel bad about it?”

“Depends.” 

He wipes his hands on his shirt. “On?”

Jensen had a feeling this would be a difficult conversation. He takes a deep breath, but when he opens his mouth to speak, Joe kisses him, hard. 

Jensen thinks about pulling away and protesting, but what's the point? There's no going back now. Instead, he sinks into Joe with a surge of relief; all of the tension that's been building up just goes away, just like that. 

“That _is_ what you were going to say, right?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jensen says. “Still going to leave?”

“Depends,” he says, heading toward the trailer. 

Jensen stands still. “On what?”

“Ask me in a few hours.”

Oh. Right.

*

The first time is like trying to dance with someone without figuring out who's supposed to lead. Plus, Jensen is a little rusty; grade twelve was a long time ago.

Being quiet is also more of a challenge than he'd thought.

The second time is better. 

The third time is pretty fucking great. 

"Fine," Joe says. "You win. I'll stay."

*

Santa Rosalia was never intended to be the end of the road.

But Jensen can picture himself and Joe now, getting old and fat, with Piper taking over the family business after they get too old to handle it.

It's not the life Suzy would have envisioned for her daughter, or for him, but they're happy, and what more could anyone want?

Nothing.

Except a functioning air conditioner.


End file.
